Some of these youngsters lose the taste for challenge; the European dream has been shattered by the squalor of the ghettos they live in, the failure of their parents to achieve a decent life, and by the deliberate ignorance of their particular problems. The drive that kept their parents working in the most inhumane of conditions doesn’t work for the youth anymore because they are literate and citizens in their own right and don’t understand their second rate status.

Religion is no longer a source of comfort because it has become political. So they let go.

In 2002 more than one million died by their own hands globally. Suicide is one of the three main causes of death among people 15-35 years of age worldwide. As shown on this map, not all countries have up to date statistics, if any at all. However, it is a stated fact that in Europe, the suicide rate among young people is gaining momentum, worrying many anxious parents. Country authorities try to finance studies that will yield actual figures, analyze the depth of the phenomenon and identify ways to stop it. EU member states fund associations and institutions to address the emergence of suicides and to help prevent them whenever possible.

The pace of the emergency response has been hastened and the effects of these actions are now quantifiable. But even in the absence of finite figures the unease of young people continues to grow.

Within the council of Europe (the decision-making body), the report by the migration commission on the “Health conditions of migrants and refugees in Europe (Doc 9304 Report Council of Europe)” describes depression and suicide also amongst newly arrived immigrants. The report acknowledges a gap in the understanding of the mental health of newly arrived immigrants.

"Data obtained from psychiatric hospitals indicate that admission rates for mental health problems among migrants vary according to ethnic background but in general tend to be much higher than for non-migrants…The relatively high incidence of depression among immigrants is associated with high rates of suicide, and children are especially at risk...Psychiatric morbidity among children of immigrants probably reflects a wide range of familial, personal and environmental circumstances, including lack of identity, confused cultural affiliation, parental job insecurity, regrets about leaving home, family disruption and poor future opportunities. The fact that adult migrants are often forced to take low-status and difficult jobs, also means their work schedules can keep them away from home and their children during non-school hours…The language differences that often emerge between immigrants and their children can also often create severe conflicts between them and their parents who fear their children are “moving away” and adopting new values and alien patterns of behavior. (Neiderud, 1989).”

Iman gives up at the age of 18

The social pyramid on which this feeling of helplessness is built is so rigid that it reaches all of society’s strata. As such, it is found amongst the various immigrant communities. Because it is impossible to obtain statistics based on ethnic origin or religion, no accurate figures can be provided. Nevertheless, it is fair to say that it has become a frequent factor in Muslim communities in Europe, and even more so in the families recently settled.

Samira came from Tunisia with her husband in the 1980’s; they had both recently turned eighteen. They headed for infamous Paris where their business in the textile industry thrived. They bought the apartment they lived in and had two children, Ahmed and Iman, who attended the grim French public school of the 18th arrondissement in Paris.

At the end of Iman’s school years, her parents divorce. Iman, the eldest of the two, is not overtly affected, or so it seems, and she passes her baccalaureate successfully and enrolls in university. Iman is already a beauty, but she brews over her baby fat. In fashionable Paris, her chubbiness is a hindrance to her teenage social life, particularly around boys. Even though she is perfectly aware that this little extra roundness of her curves makes her particularly attractive in Tunisia, she sees it as a shield between her and her foster world, a barrier she has built herself.

At home, the family alternates regularly between Arabic and French. Iman, who understands Arabic perfectly, has a bit of a French accent when she speaks. She prefers to use her perfect French, the language of her studies. During the summer holidays, they go back with their mother to Tunisia, to visit the family and immerse themselves in the love of the extended kin.

Iman and Ahmed are doted on by their relatives. They are on a pedestal because of their palpable aura of European-ness. Knowingly, they play the part expected of them by describing the fabulous things and famous people they encounter in their daily Parisian lives. Deep down they know the futility of this whole show. It is not really their personal achievements that are acclaimed. It is as much the vanity of this superficial life—one that also excludes them—which they convey to others through their stories, thus feeding the myth of the fabulous France.

In Europe, Iman’s life is at odds with her French identity, which she also confusingly mocks. Unfortunately, Iman is not equipped psychologically or supported enough by her family to succeed in forging her dual identities, one that would root her both to where she lives and where she is from. In Paris she struggles to hide her difference, however unfair and unjust it seems to her. She is ashamed of her Tunisian heritage. The tender moments of summer in Tunisia are far back in her mind, to surface only during moments of nostalgia.

She is struggling to conform, to develop her sense of belonging. All the while she is creating a homesick myth over the abandoned land. Amplifying her distance with her ancestral lineage develops in Iman a strong sense of guilt. She suffers, feeling that one part of her identity is more alive than the other, and doesn’t know whom to reach out to for help.

Further complicating matters at this much tormented time of perplexity and difficulty in relating to others, Iman is living with her mother and brother and she is often left alone in their Parisian apartment. This is a very aggressive city for a fragile young woman like her. The insistent men, drug addicts, the homeless lurking on the city’s dark streets, its brooding skies and rain, the noisy cafes, the overcrowded metro—all of it wears down her ability to fight her depression and she loses all hope. She meticulously begins planning her suicide strategy.

Her mother, who can tell Iman is not doing well, sends her to a therapist, confident in modern science’s ability to help her overcome her confusion. The doctor who treats her doesn’t have a clue what her cultural bewilderment amounts to. He is not familiar with the contradictions that tear Iman apart. She finds no words for her sadness, nor for her upheaval. This torment surfaces during disputes with her mother. Yet at the same time, Iman is paralysed by her love for her mother and her willingness to please her.

Her mother, Mrs Samira Mlaoueh, is an adamant lover of all things European. Having been raised during the Bourguiba years, she has always been resolute in her devotion to modernism. Iman’s parents have managed to keep their love for their Tunisian heritage close to their hearts. Unlike Iman, they don’t fear losing their identity because they were born and raised in their ancestral homeland.

In Europe they have learned how to be accepted. They readily choose French over Tunisian most of the time: in the clothes they wear, the food they eat, the way they schedule their lives. They are extremely proud of their Tunisian distinctiveness, but they don’t show it. They keep it to themselves. The Arab Muslim heritage is thus voluntarily inhibited. To young Iman, their behavior seems dishonest. Are they just lying to themselves? Iman accepts her dilemma—she is not really Tunisian anymore.

But will she ever be French?

Saturday, 4/7 - Despair of Young European Muslims Drives Some to Suicide—Part II

Originally published in French by Kulturissimo